Supernatural: Radiance
by seafaringwriter1657
Summary: People visiting the Radiant Hotel in Ohio are murdered gruesomely shortly after their stay. The boys go to investigate, but find they may be up against something more than just a vengeful spirit.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1: GHOST STORY**

Cleveland, Ohio.

In one of many Cleveland campgrounds, a group of four teenagers sat around a cackling campfire. The full moon was high in the sky peering down peacefully, lighting up the little clearing. The two girls were wrapped in blankets because even the fire in front of them couldn't chase away the cool chill of the night. The two boys seemed indifferent to the cold, wearing only a flannel jacket over their t-shirts.

The two boys were laughing, the dark haired girl shot the boys a glare while the blond cringed.

The blond spoke up, "That's not funny."

"It's not supposed to be funny, it's a ghost story." The boy with shaggy dark hair retorted, "It wasn't even that scary. Brayden has the best ghost story I've ever heard, don't you, Brayden?" The boy turned to the other boy.

The boy addressed as Brayden had brown eyes that glowed with the reflection from the firelight. He stared at his skater shoes before speaking up, "It's not a story, its life."

"What do you mean?" the dark haired girl asked.

Brayden continued, "I meant that it actually happened."

"How could you know?" the blond asked.

"Because it happened to me," Brayden said.

"Tell us," the dark haired girl spoke up.

"It's not my favorite story to remember." Brayden absently kicked some dirt around.

"Please?" The boy next to him asked.

"Fine," Brayden said, his voice gaining a harsh tone, "but don't come crying to me when it gives you nightmares." He looked around at the other three faces around him; he wished his friend hadn't brought the subject up. He told the story anyway, "It happened a while ago, I was nine. My best friend from the t-ball team-"

He was cut off by the dark haired girl, "You were on a t-ball team?" she had a smile on her face, she never expected Brayden to do anything in regards to sports.

Brayden ignored her comment and continued, "My best friend from the t-ball team was having problems at home. He saw how his mother would come into the house late at night, dragging her feet, her eyes half closed from working two jobs. He told me how his mother would drop the keys on the counter and walk past the ever increasing pile of bills, and the flashing answering machine that would be filled with the voices of angry bill collectors. See, his father had taken off with one of the divorced moms of one of the kids from my t-ball team. The man even changed his name and everything to avoid being found by my friend or his mom. She never got any child support payments, because, in a sense, he didn't exist anymore. But things turned south."

"They got worse?" the blond asked.

"Yea, much worse," Brayden continued, "One day they got a letter in the mail, it was from the woman my friend's dad had run away with. It explained how the man had been killed in a car accident. A couple days after getting the letter, police are all over their yard, lights flashing, an ambulance showed. Paramedics went inside and came out with a body in a body bag. The mother was taken away in cuffs, screaming that she hadn't done it on purpose."

"The mother killed your friend?" the dark haired girl asked, "That's horrible."

"It gets weird," the boy next to Brayden said, he turned to Brayden, "Tell them about the court trial."

"So, in court my friend's mom told the jury that the kid wasn't being his usual self. She explained that they were having a heated argument that escalated real big real fast. She'd been making dinner and turned to face him and yell to his face when he walked into the knife she'd been using."

"That's horrible." The blond spoke.

"It's still murder in a gruesome way." Brayden spoke, he glanced around at their confused stares, he continued, "Here's the scary part, there's this story that says that when a child is murdered gruesomely by their mother, they can turn into a vengeful spirit." He paused to let it sink in, "But not just any vengeful spirit, a death omen."

"Seriously?" the dark haired girl asked, "A death omen? Don't tell me you believe in that crap."

"I do, and it's not crap." Brayden argued.

"Persuade me," the dark haired girl continued, "persuade me that they really do exist, spirit boy."

"I've seen them."

"What?" the blond asked.

"The kids who become this death omen were murdered by their mothers, just like my friend."

"Your friend is now a death omen?" the dark haired girl asked, the tone of her voice said that she didn't believe.

"Let me explain." Brayden said, once he had their undivided attention again, he continued, "It was a couple months after my friend died. I loved to write horror stories, even then, and was trying to figure out what I wanted as my monster for the next story I would write. I told my mom that I was going to stay overnight at the hotel we own in the room my friend and I always played in. I always got the best inspiration when I stayed there, my friend was always good at coming up with new monsters for me. You guys have probably been to the hotel; you know that the rooms are heated by wood-burning fire places."

They nodded.

"I walked in the abandoned room and after placing my writing gear in the middle of the room, I started a fire. I lazed on the floor and just watched the flames dance. I must have fallen asleep; I thought I was having the most bizarre dream. I looked at the fireplace to see it was completely extinguished. Bright yellow light was coming from behind me. I turned and saw my friend standing before me, he was enveloped in flames. I was frightened; I wanted to get my feet underneath me, to bolt out of there, but I was held there. My friend hadn't moved. He just stood in front of me, smiling the smile I knew so well. I felt his fiery eyes stare deep into my soul, as if he were searching for something. I was frozen, I couldn't move, I just stared back at him. Minutes flew by, and then he finally moved. My friend took a step towards me, I finally found the sense to move out of his way, fearful if he touched me with his radiating self, that it would sear into my flesh and burn me. He turned his attention towards the fireplace, and strolled over to it. He stepped into the ashes of burnt-through wood, turned back to face me. He held my gaze for a shorter time, and then disappeared from my vision. Instantly the spell holding me still broke, I got my feet beneath me and bolted from the room. I ran into the hotel lobby, panic was showing through my face and even clearer through my eyes. My mother saw me, and asked why I was so frightened. I told her everything, I expected to scoff at me, tell me how silly I was, but she believed me, even when I had no evidence."

"So that's why you guys don't rent out the room." The blond said, there was no hint of fear in her voice, just understanding, but she clutched tighter at the blanket surrounding her, the dark haired girl had inched closer to the boy sitting next to Brayden, she made no attempt to hide her fear.

"Sometimes we don't have a choice but to rent it out, but we always make sure the fire is lit. There only seems to be a problem when the fire goes out."

The fire in the middle of their odd circle flickered as a gust of wind came through the trees. All four teens shuddered at the thought of the fire going out.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2: THE RADIANT HOTEL**

The Radiant Hotel was a five story high beige building that would reflect the sun's rays under better weather. The clouds created a thick blanket hovering over the city, blocking any sun from penetrating through. The upper rooms of the hotel all had balconies, some balconies were in disrepair, and others seemed to be right out of a catalogue. Signs of renovations could be seen like the dumpster with broken ceiling tiles and dry wall.

The Radiant Hotel was a bit of a hassle to get in and out of the parking lot. It sat at the corner of two busy main roads. The on ramp and off ramp to the highway could be seen from the upper floors of the hotel. A black '67 Chevy Impala pulled into the parking lot; the loud music could be heard through the car's body. The era of the music matched the era of the car.

The car pulled into a parking space near the door, and the driver killed the engine. Two men in business suits and dark trench coats stepped out of the car, slamming the car doors behind them. The man who had ridden shotgun turned to the driver, "This job is small fry, Dean."

The driver's green eyes flashed at the other man, "We have some time to kill, Sam."

"We should be hunting down Lilith." Sam said.

"We're out-gunned." Dean argued.

"We have to stop her from breaking any more seals. If she breaks all 66, we're screwed."

"Don't you think I know that, Sam? We've gone over this a hundred times."

"Then why aren't you doing anything about it?"

"Sammy, we were fighting this war before we even knew we were, don't give me that crap." Dean pulled open the hotel's front door, stopping Sam's response.

Sam shot an angry glare at Dean, and then stepped through the door his brother held and walked in the hotel's main lobby.

There were people staying in the hotel milling around and sitting on the couches conversing in hushed voices. They didn't notice the door open.

The main lobby was tidy, even the floors were kept clear of the muck people's shoes brought in with the rain. The wild animal theme seemed out of place in Ohio, deer busts were hung on the wall. Other taxidermy animals hung around the lobby's walls. A few crossbows and compound bows hung loaded on the walls in show.

The elevator was set off on the far right wall. There was a white staircase leading up to the first floor on the left of the reception desk, to the right of the reception desk was a staircase leading to the lower floor where the indoor pool was.

The reception desk seemed to be a normal desk, even with the prairie scene painted on the side where customers could see. There were shelves of keys and small mailboxes on the wall behind the reception desk. A boy in his teens was sitting at the desk hunched over a spiral notebook, scribbling away words known only to him. The nameplate on the desk said his name was Brayden Halloran.

Dean thought that the boy looked like a younger version of Sam. Sam and Dean waited for the boy to look up from his writing, but the scribbles continued across the page. Dean's impatience welled up inside, he reached for the bell and struck it. The teen finally looked up.

"I'm Detective Rodgers, this is my partner, Detective Kirke. Can we ask you a few questions?" The man with the green eyes asked, holding up his badge, the man next to him followed his lead.

"Uh…sure," the kid at the front desk answered, reluctantly setting the pen down. The men put their badges back in their pockets.

"We're looking into the death of Mr. Amos Roscoe. We understand he stayed here two weeks ago." The taller man asked, producing a piece of paper with a picture of the man in question.

Brayden looked at it for a few seconds longer than most people did, "Yeah, I remember him, he was a jerk, but he didn't stay long, only one night."

"We understand that he was in town for a business convention, surely he would have stayed more than one night."

"He didn't. He paid for three nights, but stayed only one, he left before morning." The kid said, picking up his pen and pulling the notebook a bit closer to him.

The man with the green eyes raised an eyebrow, looking at his partner, the kid didn't notice.

A man had come in from the rain and was standing behind the two detectives dripping rainwater on the clean floors of the lobby, he cleared his throat loudly.

The detective with the green eyes turned to glare at the newcomer, the new comer dropped his gaze.

"We'd really appreciate if we could see the guestbook." The taller detective said, he didn't seem to notice the newcomer.

Brayden shrugged and shoved the thick book towards the detectives. The tall detective swiped it up and brought it to the corner of the desk, letting the newcomer at the reception desk.

Dean snatched the book open and flipped through the pages, clearly searching for a particular date, "Nathan Gravis, Brian Calico, Matt Duncan, all stayed here before they bit it." He said in a low voice only his partner could hear, "They all planned to stay more than one night, but left after their first."

"Look," Sam pointed to the room numbers all three men had been checked into, "they all stayed in the same room."

"Alright, let's go up and take a look." Dean suggested taking a step away from the desk to head up the stairs.

Sam stopped him, grabbing his arm, "We don't even know what it is, we'd be walking in blind. Let's go back to our hotel and do some research."

Brayden watched the detectives leave out of the corner of his eye; he was having an argument with the man who had just come in, "I'm sorry, sir, all the rooms are booked."

"Look, kid, it doesn't have to be anything grand, just something with a bed in it where I can sleep for the night."  
"I'm sorry,"

The man cut the kid off from his apology, "Well if all your rooms are booked, you should've had the 'No Vacancy' sign lit. You must have something open."

Brayden looked hesitant to give the man the room, "If you could just wait a moment, sir." He punched a few keys on the computer keyboard and then returned his attention to the man, "We do have one room open." He paused, "Are you sure you don't want to go to any other hotel? There's a nice one down the street…" Brayden trailed off.

"I've already been there," the man insisted, "they're booked. I'll take the room you have."

"If you insist," Brayden said, pulling the log book back from the edge of the desk and pushing it towards the man, "If you could just sign in here, sir."

The man scribbled his name and the date, but left the room number blank. The man handed over a company credit card and the teen processed the transaction. The man never asked how much the room was. Brayden grabbed a key off the wall behind him and stepped around the desk motioning for the man to follow him. Brayden walked up the hotel's stairs and down the hallway to the last room on the left. He opened the door and walked in, heading straight to the fireplace. It was already lit.

"You should keep the fire going throughout the night, don't worry about adding too much wood, there's enough here to last the night." He added another log to the already blazing fire.

The man's phone began to ring, he answered it after looking at the caller ID, "Hey, Ron, how are we doing with this deal?" He paused to hear what Ron had to say, "Nah, man, don't worry, once Mr. Dufort writes his name on that deal; we are going to be millionaires."

Brayden knew that he was being ignored so he left the room. The business man never seemed to notice.

XX

The old clock on the mantle in the first floor's last room to the left read two in the morning. The rain was still coming down as hard as ever just outside the balcony doors, but the thunder was distant and the lightning was dim. Looking down from the clock on the mantle, the fire has gone out. Not even the ashes were smoldering anymore.

The business man was fast asleep in the bed, lying on his side facing the fireplace. The business man's face lit up as if someone was shining a flashlight on his features, he woke up startled, from being torn out of a deep sleep. He froze, staring at the being in front of him emitting the light that chased the shadows off his face.

A young boy with blond hair and fiery eyes stared back at the man with a mischievous grin set on his face. Seeming to come from within the boy, the fire flared outward from his body, enclosing him in a searing hot, bright envelope. The boy stood a foot away from the bed and just peered into the eyes of the frozen man on the bed. Minutes passed, and then the boy turned to walk towards the fireplace. He turned once, to look at the man frozen in fright, and disappeared.

XX

"Sorry, mom, but he insisted that he needed a room." Brayden told his mother defensively in the empty hotel lobby.

"Brayden Derrick Halloran, you know to never give out that room! Why didn't you put the 'No Vacancy' sign on?"

"I didn't put the sign on because we weren't technically full. There's travelers all over that just need a place to stay for the night, I'm not going to refuse them a room."

"You shouldn't have put that man in that room. The room is not a good place for anyone to be at anytime because he might show up."

"Not if the fire's lit. He's afraid of fire."

"But he still comes. I should close off that room forever."

"Patryck won't hurt anyone." Brayden said innocently.

"He already has! Six people, including you, young man, have seen him up there; you know that it means no good!"

They heard a yelp from outside, Brayden stepped around the desk ignoring his mother to take a peek at the noise that had come from outside. Brayden stepped out into the cool night; the hotel was lit up with the lamps from the street and the parking lot. Brayden's mother put her hand over her mouth to stop from screaming.

The business man that had checked into the boy's room was now hanging out the window in a noose made from the bed sheets. The man had a petrified expression frozen on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3: THE BOY'S ROOM**

Dean leaned up against the headboard of his bed; the sleeves to his flannel shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Sammy's laptop was open on his lap, the look on Dean's face told of the connections he was trying to make. The Impala's engine slowed down and shut off just outside the door. Sam came barging in the door, arms laden with takeout bags.

"Dude, did you remember the pie this time?"

Sammy ignored his question and asked his own, "You got anything yet?"

"Nothin' much more than we already got. You know those three guys that kicked the bucket already, Nathan Gravis, Brian Calico, Matt Duncan?"

"Yeah,"

"They were all successful." Dean paused to take the food bag from Sam, he opened it and started to dig in to his bacon burger, he spoke with his mouth still full, "Nathan Gravis was an actor, died in a fiery plane crash shortly after hittin' it big at the box office. Brian Calico was shot for one of his paintings, and the last guy, Matt Duncan, successful neurosurgeon, stabbed to death by a widower whose wife had died on the guy's operating table."

"So what's the link? What's the spirit gotta do with anything?" Sam asked.

"The hotel and their success."

"What does their success have to do with anything?"

"Whatever is at the hotel must have a tie to these guys, it knows what's up in their future and kills 'em at the top of their ladder."

"So what about the guys who haven't kicked it yet?"

"They're not at the height of their career." Dean said simply.

Sam wasn't buying it.

"Man, if you have a better theory, let's hear it."

"Let's just hit the hotel and check out the rooms these guys stayed in."

XX

The lobby at the Radiant Hotel was full of tenants gossiping about the events of the crazy business man who hanged himself out the window the previous night. When they looked up from their gossip to see two guys in suits come in, they weren't surprised.

The two guys walked to the desk where Brayden sat writing. Brayden was writing slower than the day before, but seemed more in thought.

Dean rung the bell.

Brayden jumped and his pen made a scribble on the paper, "Man! Don't do that!" He looked up to see who had rung the bell, and flushed a bit, "I'm sorry, detectives; I didn't know it was you."

Sam and Dean ignored the apology. Sam handed over a piece of paper with the names of the three guys who died after staying in the hotel, written in a different color pen was the name of the man who had hung himself out the window the previous night, "Brayden, we were just wondering if we could have a look around the rooms these guys stayed in." Sam had said rooms on purpose, he wanted to be sure these guys all stayed in the same room.

Brayden took the paper and studied the names for a few minutes. His hand never reached towards the log sitting too far to read. Finally he spoke, "Room. All these guys stayed in the same room."

"Whatever, could we get the key to the room?" Dean asked.

"Why would you want to go in there?" Brayden asked.

Dean was going to say something snarky when Sam spoke first, "We just want to be thorough in our investigation."

"You sure you guys wanna go in there? You guys not scared of spooks or anything?"

Sam got the hint Brayden knew what was in the room, he ignored it and said, "We'll be fine, just give us the key."

Brayden got the key off the wall and handed it over, "It's up the stairs, last door to the left. If the fire's out, I wouldn't go in." He said in a last word of caution.

XX

Inside the room the business man had dangled out of the previous night, Sam and Dean scanned the room, it was cloudy outside from the storm that hadn't quite passed, so they needed to turn the lights on. Dean took out the EMF and searched for where the signal was the strongest. He went to the empty fireplace and had no read. He walked to the middle of the room, the EMF spiked.

The lights started to flicker, the EMF went crazy.

"Somethin's comin' in." Dean said. He seemed as calm as ever.

The lights flickered once more, and then stayed off. Dean had enough time to raise an eyebrow at his brother. The room between the two brothers was suddenly bright. A little boy with fiery eyes surrounded by flames separated Sam and Dean.

For a moment the boys just stood there looking at the fiery figure. Before they could react, it faded from view. The lights had just flickered on when they boys heard a muffled yelp and a scream from the lobby below them.

Sam and Dean got a grip on reality and ran back down to the lobby. They looked at the front desk expecting to see Brayden sitting in the chair, their eyes fell to the ground to see Brayden breathing heavily on the floor with a huge arrow embedded in his torso.

Dean leaped around the desk and kneeled next to Brayden, applying pressure to the wound. Dean knew that the bear arrow sticking out of Brayden had a tip that expanded when it hit something solid. If Dean tried to take it out, Brayden would surely die.

Sam tried to work the angles on where the arrow came from, the bow on the wall was missing an arrow. How anyone else in the lobby hadn't been hit was a mystery.

"Take my notebook. Read what's inside, it should help." Brayden said in a strained voice to Dean.

Someone had called emergency services, Sam heard someone say an ambulance was on the way. Someone had gotten Brayden's mom, she shoved Dean aside and held her child's hand as he died.

Sam and Dean knew that if 911 had been called, police would show up at the scene. The police were the last people Sam and Dean needed to see. They headed back to the Impala.

Once outside, Dean turned to Sam, "Ya know, those radiant boys are some real sons of bitches." He stepped into the Impala and thrummed her to life. He took off way to fast for conditions down the wet pavement.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4: RADIANT BOY**

Sam hunched over his laptop at the table in his hotel room. Both boys were back in their comfortable jeans and flannel shirts. Dean sat propped on the headboard of his bed reading Brayden's notebook.

"So how did you know it was a radiant boy?" Sam asked.

Dean pointed to John's journal without looking up from Brayden's notebook.

"What does the kid's notebook say?"

"It's a story. The main character's family owns a hotel, and the main character's best friend and he used to always play in the same hotel room. The main character's best friend is eventually murdered by his mother. The mother couldn't deal with the death of her only son, so she committed suicide soon after. A few months after the murder of his best friend, the main character saw a radiant boy in the form of his best friend."

"He actually used the phrase radiant boy?"

"Yeah, this kid Brayden did his research. Going back to the story, he goes on about how seeing the radiant boy changed his character's life and how the radiant boy got him at the height of his successful career as a writer. Here, check this out. Brayden scribbled a name at the end of the spiral." Dean got up and handed the spiral over to Sammy, as he got up, a letter slipped out and fell to the floor.

Sam studied the name while Dean picked up the letter.

"Patryck Trask?" Sam asked.

Dean opened the letter which had been previously read, "This is a congratulatory letter. This kid's huge."

Sam had typed in his laptop and slid his laptop so Dean could see the screen. The picture was the same boy the brothers had seen in the hotel, "Patryck Trask, buried in Westlawn Cemetery, stabbed to death by his mother."

Dean nodded, "Time to go salt some bones."

XX

The moon lit up the midnight sky, letting the boys see clearly what they were digging up. They threw the last shovels full of dirt, and opened the casket.

After crawling out of the hole, Dean poured a blanket of salt over the bones, Sam poured the gas.

Dean took out a box of matches, lit it and dropped it onto the bones, "Sayonara."

"Do you think we're clear?" Sam asked innocently.

"Radiant boys are death omens, Sammy. Anyone who's ever seen one dies in a bloodbath at the height of their success. Sure, there's been one or two people who've died peacefully in old age, but it's rare."

"So…Lilith…the apocalypse…" Sammy trailed off.

"Sammy, I don't think we needed a radiant boy to tell us what we already know."


End file.
